


Other fates

by irisdouglasiana



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Gen, all of Ragnar's large adult sons, family meals are not a good idea, happiest ending I could think of given the circumstances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:32:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisdouglasiana/pseuds/irisdouglasiana
Summary: Sigurd is dead. Ivar did not mean to do it, but it makes no difference. He convinces himself it was fate. If his brother’s death was the will of the gods, then it could not possibly be his fault.But there are other fates.





	Other fates

Sigurd is dead. Ivar did not mean to do it, but it makes no difference. He makes excuses, knowing there is no excuse, and eventually he convinces himself it was fate, since that is the only way he can live with the enormity of what he’s done. If his brother’s death was the will of the gods, then it could not possibly be his fault.

To Ivar, fate is a straight line, fixed and unwavering, with a single beginning and a single end. But perhaps fate is more like a stone rolling down a hill: you might start in the same location, and gravity will always pull you downwards, but the changes in topography and the movement of the wind can shift your path and drive you in another direction. Every time, your journey will be different, and every time you will end up somewhere else.    

* * *

Here is another fate:

The same words are spoken and again Ivar throws his axe, but this time, Sigurd uses the very last of his strength to stagger all the way around the table and bring the blade down on Ivar’s head. Ivar stares in shock and doesn’t even raise his hands to defend himself. He dies without making a sound. Their blood mixes together and seeps into the table and the platform, staining the wood almost black.

Bjorn departs for the Mediterranean with Halfdan as soon as the funerals are over. Ubbe and Hvitserk decide to stay and establish their settlement, but they can’t stop the whispers that the sons of Ragnar are cursed—and privately, they wonder if it might be the truth. The warriors gradually leave and the settlement shrinks until at last Aethelwulf’s army pushes them out for good. The survivors flee to Kattegat. On the journey home, the two brothers watch England fade into the distance, and their father’s dream feels more distant than ever.

* * *

In a different fate, no deal is possible. It is plain from the start that Bjorn will not concede anything Ivar truly wants, and Ivar has no intention to relent, now that they have Rollo’s Frankish soldiers to back them up. So when it is all said and done, he cannot think of a reason why Bjorn should live. Ivar lets Bjorn leave Harald’s hall, and has him killed before he reaches his ship.

The alliance immediately collapses. Harald tells him to take his men and get out. Fewer go with Ivar than he expects, and Hvitserk stays behind with the Frankish troops. _We do not need you to take Kattegat_ , he tells Ivar coolly. _It is one thing to kill a man on the battlefield, but what you did was wrong. You said you killed Sigurd out of anger; why don’t you tell me your excuse this time, little brother? Go on. Tell me._

Harald and Hvitserk’s combined forces decimate Lagertha and Ubbe’s warriors, and then they turn on each other like wolves. Hvitserk beats Harald back, although not without significant losses. He returns to Kattegat as king. But there is a kind of sourness to his victory, and the people regard him and the Frankish soldiers with resentment. Too much blood has been spilled; too many lives lost. He manages to hang on to the throne for a little while, until Harald builds up his army again and succeeds in conquering Kattegat, making himself king of all Norway.  

Word reaches Kattegat from time to time of Ivar’s continued raids in England. Finally his luck runs out and Alfred’s soldiers catch up to him and put them all to death. Still, for generations afterwards, Saxon parents invoke his name to frighten disobedient children: _if you don’t behave, Ivar the Boneless will crawl out of Hell and get you!_

* * *

Hvitserk spends a long time on his journey back from Frankia accounting for every insult and humiliation Ivar has put him through in the past few months. The more he thinks about it, the more he resents it: after all, he is older and more experienced than Ivar; why shouldn’t he lead? Why should he be loyal to a brother who feels no loyalty in return? Hvitserk remembers that the Frankish troops from Rollo are a gift to _him_ , not to Ivar, who never knew Rollo anyway. As he steps off the ship and greets Ivar, he makes up his mind.

On the battlefield, at Hvitserk’s command, the Frankish soldiers rush Ivar and Harald’s warriors from behind. The end is swift. Harald falls under Lagertha’s hand, and they take Ivar alive. Heedless of the deep wounds in his torso and shoulder, he spits in Hvitserk’s face and screams at him. They look at each other, Lagertha to Ubbe to Hvitserk to Bjorn, and they all know what must be done. With Guthrum and Astrid and hundreds of warriors and shield maidens dead and dying, there is no other choice.

But neither Ubbe nor Hvitserk can bring themselves to do it. It is Bjorn, finally, who raises his axe, anguish etched in his face. _You can’t kill me_ , Ivar rages. He is wrong.

 _It was the right thing to do_ , Ubbe reassures Hvitserk afterwards, but there is a hollowness to his words. Hvitserk did not need strike the final blow himself to know that he killed Ivar. He cannot go anywhere in Kattegat without expecting to see his youngest brother; he cannot bring himself to step into the great hall, or the blacksmith’s shop, or visit their old training grounds. In his dreams, he relives the battle over and over. It always ends when he gives the command.

When he cannot bear it any longer, he says his farewells and takes a small ship west. After days at sea, he reaches the land of the gods that Floki discovered, but Floki is not there. He finds the settlement abandoned and burnt. Hvitserk sifts through the ashes and pulls out bits of singed cloth and bone.

Still, the land of the gods is beautiful: the edge of the world, and yet the center. He climbs to the highest point of the island, and watches the crows circling overhead and the storm clouds rising to the east. The wind whips the hair around his neck and makes him shiver.

 _Was it fate, or was it free will?_ he asks, but the gods keep their silence.

* * *

_I do not want to have to kill you_ , Ubbe warns Hvitserk. _You’re my little brother; stay._ He thinks he sees Hvitserk waver, yet in the end he makes his choice and goes back to Ivar. Ubbe makes his choice as well, facing down his younger brother on the battlefield. He lifts his sword and charges.

Ubbe expects Hvitserk to fight back, but he doesn’t even try: he just stands there as Ubbe’s blade cuts deep into his neck. An eternity passes before he falls to the earth with a dreamy smile on his face. Ubbe drops his sword and holds his brother’s hand long after he’s gone. He doesn’t know whether he sits at his brother’s side for minutes, or hours, or years as the battle rages on around him. He only vaguely registers the Frankish troops rushing towards them and the calls for retreat. At last, Bjorn grabs Ubbe by the arm and drags him away.    

Ivar finds Hvitserk’s body after the battle is over. He stares for a long moment, not quite believing it. Then he drops the crutch and his legs collapse underneath him, and he howls, his entire body shaking with grief.

They meet again decades later, when Ubbe finally returns home to Kattegat—both of them kings now, Ubbe with three daughters by his second wife, Ivar with his adopted sons. Ubbe’s hair has gone entirely gray and the lines on Ivar’s face have deepened. His eyes go wide when his older brother walks through the door, and heedless of all the people watching, he slides off his throne and crawls down the steps. Ubbe falls to knees in front of him and they embrace.

* * *

One more fate:

_What’s the matter, Ivar? You can’t take it?_

_Ivar, do not listen to him_ , Ubbe says, and reaches out to grasp his brother by the shoulder.

 _Don’t touch me._ Ivar shrugs him off, still glaring at Sigurd, but Ubbe sees his grip on the table loosen ever so slightly.

 _The food is growing cold_ , Hvitserk points out to Sigurd. _This is supposed to be a celebration, eh? Why don’t you sit down and finish eating? There is no need for that kind of talk. From either of you._

After a moment, Sigurd takes his seat, but he does not touch his food. _Perhaps it would be for the best if the sons of Ragnar go their separate ways_ , he says with resignation.

One by one, they nod in agreement. _So this is how it ends_ , Ubbe sighs.

But the end of one thing is always the beginning of something else. Bjorn returns to the Mediterranean and Sigurd goes with him, and many marvelous stories are told of the men from the north and their adventures at the House of Wisdom under the caliph. Ivar sails west to Ireland to continue his raids. It is not long before he is king—not over Kattegat, as he had imagined, but a king nevertheless. Ubbe and Hvitserk settle in Wessex and fend off Saxon attacks for several years. Eventually they reach an uneasy peace with Alfred and they learn to live together. Young men and women flock to England when they hear of the good land. They marry their Christian neighbors, and their descendants are like stars in the sky, too numerous to count. They change the course of history.


End file.
